


Meet me at the Coffee Shop

by Milzilla



Series: Caffeine [1]
Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shop, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-29
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-11-27 10:29:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/660905
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Milzilla/pseuds/Milzilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras is a university student looking for a quiet place to study when he comes across a tiny, tucked away cafe. There he meets Grantaire, who makes the best coffee he has ever tasted, and is simultaneously the most infuriating person he has ever met. As Enjolras returns to the cafe time after time, he finds himself becoming more addicted to Grantaire’s coffee, and perhaps Grantaire himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The first time that Enjolras came across the little cafe, it had been an accident. He had been beyond stressed at the time. With two exams in the next week and nowhere quiet to study, he had been at the end of his ropes when he had come across the small, practically empty cafe only a block or two away from his university.

Unable to believe his luck, Enjolras hurried inside, sliding onto a seat at one of the tables, and pulled out his book. The room smelt of brewing coffee beans and sweet biscuits, but he couldn't pause to think about that. After a few moments he heard a voice beside him, asking for his order.

"One espresso please. Extra strong." He replied quickly, not looking up from his book. He heard an amused snort, but paid no attention to it, far too focused on taking in as much information as he could in one sitting. This cafe was the quietest place he had come across in a good while, and he was determined to make the most of it while he could.

Enjolras was finally broken from his thoughts at the smell of coffee. He reached out to grab the cup, bringing it to his lips without taking his eyes off of his book, when something caught in the corner of his eye stopped him. He lowered the cup slowly, eyebrows rising as the image on the froth came into view.

It was a smiling face within a love heart, nothing else. Enjolras stared at it as if it might tell him its secrets, before he noticed that there was a small piece of card on the saucer still on the table. Written on it in barely legible writing was the word:

_Smile. (:_

Enjolras’ head whipped up so quickly it was as if a spring had snapped; glancing around the tiny cafe in confusion. He didn’t know who had brought him the coffee, had barely noticed as they’d placed it on the table, let alone noticed what they looked like. His gaze fell on the only person who seemed to be behind the counter; black curls and bright blue eyes, which happened to be watching him in return.

Enjolras quickly looked down at his coffee again, suddenly disgruntled for no reason in particular. He stared stubbornly at the word ‘great’ for a few moments before he brought the mug to his lips. Surprise was etched into his face as the first taste hit his tongue. It tasted amazing. He looked up tentatively, gaze finding the boy behind the counter again, who was grinning back at him with a sense of pride that had no business being that attractive.

Giving a small nod of approval, Enjolras turned his gaze back to his book; a twitch at the corner of his mouth that he ignored with great determination.


	2. Chapter 2

The second time that he came across the cafe, Enjolras assured himself it was a coincidence. The cafe happened to be close to the path he took to get to university, and he was in desperate need of a cup of coffee before his class.

Which was two hours away.

So maybe he'd left an hour or two in advance so that he could pass the cafe and get a coffee before his exam. It wasn't as though he had planned the whole thing out in his mind. Besides, the cafe had served the best coffee that he could remember drinking, and he wanted to make sure that it hadn't been his delirious state that had caused him to form such an opinion.

He walked through the green door frame, taking a seat at one of the tables. Since he was not in as much of a panic as he had been the other day, he could take a moment to look around. It really was a lovely establishment; soft colours on the walls and vintage looking chairs and tables. He was glad that he'd come to take a second look.

He was especially glad for it when the boy from the other day approached his table, wiping his hands on the black apron that he wore. Enjolras had to swallow slowly to relieve himself of feeling rising up his throat. The barista looked better than Enjolras remembered; perhaps his view had been altered by the stress and the fact that his first look had only lasted a few seconds. The black curls framed his face, but did nothing to dull the bright blue of his eyes.

"You're back," were the first words that came out of the barista’s mouth.

"Yes. The coffee here is very good." Enjolras replied, irritated with himself. "One espresso please.” He handed over a few coins.

The barista looked a little bemused, but he nodded as he took the money. "One espresso coming up. Need a shot of vodka in that, or is exam season over?"

"I beg your pardon?" Enjolras asked.

The barista looked sheepish. "The last time you came in here. You looked uh - stressed. It was a joke."

"Oh, of course," Enjolras allowed a small smile. "I was. Thank you for the - " he paused. Would the boy even remember, or was this line of conversation his way of being polite? "For your message. It helped."

The barista’s face lit up with a pleased smile, and Enjolras' breath caught in his throat. "You looked like you needed it."

"Could I get that latte to go please?" Enjolras asked, and the barista looked surprised again, but he nodded.

"Of course. Can I get a name, then?"

Enjolras looked around the otherwise empty cafe in confusion, before looking back at the barista with a raised eyebrow.

The barista shrugged. "That's fine. I'll have to make one up for you."

As he walked back to the counter, Enjolras turned to say, "Make it clever, or put no name at all." When the barista didn't answer, Enjolras turned back to his table and waited.

A few minutes later, he heard footsteps coming toward him, and watched as a coffee cup was placed in front of him. He picked it up and turned to thank the barista, but the other boy was already back behind the counter, wiping down the espresso machine. Curling his fingers around the warm cup, Enjolras moved to the door, about to walk out of the cafe when he heard a voice call to him.

"By the way," the barista was calling, "You can call me Iapis!"

Enjolras looked at him in confusion for a few moments before he looked down at the cup in his hands, eyes widening in realisation. There, written in a black marker were the words.

_Have a nice day, Apollo._

Enjolras shook his head and walked out the door, though he could hear the barista’s laughter from inside the cafe.


	3. Chapter 3

The fourth time that he was in the cafe, Enjolras was determined to ask 'Iapis' the barista his name. He was not entirely sure where the determination had come from, but it seemed ridiculous to now, the fact that the boy was thinking of him as Apollo. And Enjolras was well aware of who Iapis was; one of Apollo's male lovers, a healer. It was silly for the names to carry on.

"Apollo!" Iapis called from the counter, and Enjolras rose from his seat near the window to walk over and take his drink from the barista's outstretched hand.

"Thanks," he muttered, bringing the cup to his lips, sighing happily as the liquid hit his tongue.

"I put in an extra shot," Iapis told him as he moved back to the espresso machine, wiping it down with a cloth. "You look like you need it." Enjolras raised an eyebrow at him, and the other boy but his hands up in defence. "You looked tired, that's all. Stressed out, like you were the first time you came here." He snorted in amusement, "I could have served the coffee to you naked and you wouldn't have noticed."

Enjolras coughed. "That would have been unprofessional of you."

"Yes it would have," Iapis grinned in response. "Well, have a good day, Apollo," he said.

Enjolras turned to leave but something stopped him, and he turned around again. "Enjolras," he said.

Iapis turned to blink at him, confusion etched on his face.

"My name," Enjolras explained, a strange feeling in his chest. "Enjolras."

Realisation dawned on Iapis' face, and then his face split into a wide smile. "Enjolras,' the name rolled off his tongue and Enjolras had to suck in a breath. "It suits you." He ran a hand through his curls and chuckled. "Mine's Grantaire, but everyone calls me R."

"Grantaire," Enjolras tried it out, liked the way the sounds fit in his mouth. "Grantaire," he repeated, and then nodded, as if that was that.

"Well uh - " Grantaire couldn't seem to stop smiling. "Have a great day then. Enjolras."

"You too," Enjolras replied, and he turned to walk out the door before Grantaire could catch him smiling, because he would never hear the end of it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never read _Le Rouge et le Noir_ , nor do I know anyone who has. Please forgive me for that.

After his sixth visit to the cafe or perhaps it was the seventh or maybe it was at the point where he was at the cafe every day before class, that Enjolras realised he could no longer plead innocence, nor coincidence. His relationship with the cafe had gone from accident and coincidence to purpose and foresight and with it came Grantaire. Although the feeling in his stomach caused by the attractive barista irked him to no end, the coffee was amazing, and the location was very convenient for him.

Enjolras didn't know exactly what number of visit it was when Grantaire approached his table with a tentative grin, and even if he had, he would have forgotten the number at the sight of those blue eyes.

"Is this seat taken?" Grantaire asked, motioning to the empty seat across from Enjolras.

Enjolras lowered his book, looking at the empty space and then back at Grantaire, one eyebrow raised.

Grantaire nodded, "A stupid question. Let me try again. Would you have any strong objections to me sitting with you?"

"Don't you work here?"

Grantaire cocked his head, bemused. "I'm on a break. You came later than usual today."

_You've made a note of what time I'm usually here?_ "And you want to spend your break here, with me?" Enjolras enquired.

The other boy just grinned before slipping into the empty chair opposite Enjolras, placing a cup of coffee on the table. Enjolras returned to reading his book, and was halfway through a paragraph when a voice broke through his concentration.

"What are you reading?" Grantaire asked.

Enjolras held up his book so that Grantaire would be able to read the cover, and heard the other hum in what he assumed was understanding.

"Ah, _Le Rouge et le Noir_. The Red and Black."

Enjolras lowered the book and looked at Grantaire with wide eyes. "You know of it?"

"I've read it," Grantaire said. "Hated it."

"You- what?!"

A shrug. "There's only so many novels a person can read addressing the issues of contemporary society before he falls asleep or finds something better to read. I'm much more fond of the Little Prince, to be honest." He grinned and winked, before he reached out to wrap his fingers around his cup and take a gulp of his drink, but not even that would distract Enjolras.

"You've got to be joking," the blonde said, book and coffee forgotten. "It's about far more than the issues of contemporary society! It was a novel ahead of its time; there are elements of hypocrisy, of the contradiction between feeling and thinking. The novel questions the very possibility of truth and the sincerity of all the characters. You cannot reduce it so little a summary."

Grantaire leaned across the table, a spark in his eye. "Alright then, Enjolras. Convince me." There was a challenge in his expression and his words, one that Enjolras could not, and would not refuse.

With his jaw set, he launched into a detailed and well thought out opinion on the book, while Grantaire interrupted every once in a while (a little more than once in a while) to provide his input, which resulted in Grantaire going over his break by fifteen minutes, and Enjolras being late for his class.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I just want to say a really big thank you to anyone who's left a comment/bookmarked/subscribed or left kudos. (:

"So, what's going on with you?"

Enjolras turned to face Combeferre, "What do you mean?"

"You've been distracted lately," Combeferre replied, raising a hand to motion at his friend. "This is the fourth time you've been late to class, you haven't flipped the page of that book since you opened it, and I just said that King Louis XVI was a great guy and you said mmm sure."

Enjolras blanched. "Louis XVI was a horrific monarch. He attempted to remove the taille, he was indecisive and threw France into debt. That's why they executed him."

Combeferre nodded, "That's what I thought. So what's gotten into you then?"

"Nothing," Enjolras said quickly. "I'm fine." At a pointed look from his friend, Enjolras sighed. "Truly, Com. I'm just fine." He closed his book and slipped it into his bag. "I could use a coffee though."

"Me too, actually," Combeferre agreed, putting his own book in his bag. "I'll come with you."

"Where are we going?" Courfeyrac asked, having just shaken himself from a nap.

Enjolras paused, halfway between sitting and standing, mouth set in a thin line. "I can get you both some. You don't have to come."

Combeferre shook his head with a laugh. "Don't be stupid. Are you going to that place you went to on the way to class? You can't carry three coffees back here. Besides, I want a muffin." He stood up, picking up his bag and fixing Enjolras with a pointed look.

"Me too." Courfeyrac agreed, standing up after seeing Combeferre do so. "Banana."

Enjolras' brow furrowed. "I don't think - "

"Come on, Enjy," Combeferre grinned, elbowing Enjolras playfully as he passed him on the way out of the classroom. "You go there all the time. It's about time you introduced us."

\--

"Hello," Grantaire greeted the three of them as they walked in the door, but his eyes seemed to light up at the sight of Enjolras. "Back so soon?" he teased, "I knew you couldn't stay away."

"Oh?" Courfeyrac asked, looking sideways at Enjolras before turning his attention back to Grantaire. "So is this the place that Enjy's been spending all his time then?"

"Enjy?" Grantaire looked from Courfeyrac to Enjolras, glee evident in his eyes. "Here he's known better as Apollo, but yes. We do see him very often."

"Not so often," Enjolras argued, and he coughed when they all looked at him with pointed expressions. "We'll just find a table then?"

"Your usual is free," Grantaire told him, motioning to the table next to the window. The four of them moved over to the table, and Grantaire wiped his hands on his apron as the others sat down.

"So, what can I get you?" he asked them.

"Latte, double shot," Combeferre said. "Thanks."

"Just a banana muffin for me please," Courfeyrac chimed in. "If you've got them."

"And one for me," Combeferre agreed. "Enjy?"

Grantaire nodded. "Same as usual, Apollo?"

"The usual," Enjolras muttered. "Thanks."

They waited in silence as Grantaire disappeared, except for the occasional snicker from Combeferre. When Grantaire returned and they each had their drinks, Combeferre motioned to the empty seat at their table.

"Why don't you sit down with us?" he asked Grantaire. 

"What - no," Enjolras said quickly. "I'm sure he's too busy to sit with us."

"Come on Enjy," Combeferre laughed, motioning around the empty cafe. "I'm sure he's got five minutes."

Enjolras' eyes widened in abject horror at the words, even more so when Grantaire grinned and slipped into the seat.

"So, are you students as well?" he asked Courfeyrac and Combeferre.

"Medical," Combeferre replied instantly. "Three years into my study."

"Arts student," Courfeyrac volunteered, already stuffing a mouthful of muffin into his mouth.

"I thought about going into the Arts," Grantaire said. "But university isn't really my idea of fun. So will one of you tell me what Apollo does? He won't tell me. I've had to guess from all the books he brings in here."

Combeferre raised his eyebrows, glancing over at Enjolras with a grin, before turning back to Grantaire. "Well you see, Apollo here, is a journalism student. Politics, specifically. He's determined to topple the twisted establishment through information and clarity."

"That's not exactly what I - " Enjolras started to say, but was interrupted by a laugh from Grantaire.

"Of course! I should've known when he came in here with _Le Rouge et le Noir_ ," he said. "Especially with the way he spoke about it."

"Oh no, you got the Red and Black lecture?" Combeferre asked, laughing with Grantaire.

Enjolras looked to Courfeyrac for help, who just shrugged, so Enjolras crossed his arms and shifted in his chair. It seemed as though he was in for some serious teasing.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, this took a little while. Thank you again to everyone who reads/comments/leaves kudos/bookmarks/subscribes etc~. It really is wonderful and makes me smile c:

One unfortunate week, Enjolras was sick. It didn't happen very often, generally only after a stressful week of exams or assignments. And it was after one of these times that he came down with a terrible cold and wasn't able to leave his apartment for an entire week. The cold passed without much concern, and as soon as he was back on his feet, Enjolras was headed to Grantaire's cafe (so maybe it wasn't actually Grantaire's cafe and he only called it that in his mind).

The moment he entered, the familiar smell of espresso engulfed him, and he took his regular table next to the window. After a few moments, Grantaire approached the table and set down a mug of espresso before sliding into the chair opposite Enjolras.

"Don't you ever have to work?" Enjolras asked, fingers wrapping around the mug, his tone sour but his expression soft; a give away.

"The place is pretty dead," Grantaire replied quickly, "I've served everyone. Where have you been?"

The direct question took Enjolras by surprise, and he considered that the answer as to why he answered without thinking. "I've been sick. The flu." His eyes narrowed after a moment's pause. "Why?"

"I was - " Grantaire looked as though he might not say what he was about to, but seemed to make a decision. "I was worried," he explained. "You didn't come in for a whole week."

"You noticed that?"

Grantaire fixed him with a look. "You come in here at least once a day. Of course I noticed when you didn't come in for a whole week. You take up two tables with all your books at least twice a week. We speak every day..." he trailed off, looking at Enjolras expectantly.

Enjolras blinked. Perhaps he'd avoided thinking of just how he came to this place, or perhaps it had just become a habit in his weekly routine that he hadn't considered it to be strange. But now that he did think about it, he realised that until this week, he had spoken to Grantaire almost every day for several weeks now.

"I see," was all he could say to the revelation. He raised his mugs to his lips to take a sip of his drink, unsure of what he might say.

As usual, Grantaire was more than happy to fill the silence.

"I think you should give me your number," Grantaire said.

Enjolras nearly spat out the mouthful of coffee he had just taken, but quickly regained his composure and swallowed. "And why is that?" he asked.

Grantaire shrugged, but continued to look completely serious. "What if you get sick again, and I've got no idea whether you're alive or dead?"

"I think Courfeyrac worries enough about me for two people," Enjolras told him.

"What if I get so nervous after not seeing you here for a week that I go searching the whole of Paris, knocking on every door, search your entire campus..."

"You're not serious."

Grantaire raised an eyebrow, challenging the statement.

Enjolras sighed, doing his best to look very put upon, and then pulled a pen out of his bag, scribbling down a number on his napkin. He paused, as if rethinking his decision, then handed Grantaire the napkin.

"Brilliant," Grantaire smiled as he pocketed the napkin. "So, I think we should get coffee."

Enjolras gave him a pointed look before he glanced at the coffee in front of him, then back to Grantaire.

"I mean... somewhere where I don't work," Grantaire continued.

"But your coffee is the best in the near vicinity," Enjolras protested. "That's why I come here. Why would I go for coffee somewhere that you're not making it?"

Grantaire looked tickled pink by this information, and eased into a pleased smile. "Because then I can sit with you however long I want, instead of having to rush back to work. Or have you rushing off to school."

"Oh." Enjolras let this information sink in.

"So maybe not coffee then," Grantaire said. "Drinks?"

"Drinks," Enjolras echoed him. "I could do drinks."

"How's tomorrow night?"

"Class."

"The night after?"

"Study night with Combeferre."

Grantaire fixed him with a look. "Monday?"

"I could - I could do Monday," Enjolras agreed. "Yes. Monday I can do."

Grantaire waved the napkin, which held Enjolras' number, in the air. "I'll text you a time and a place, then?"

"I look forw - " Enjolras began, then coughed and gave a firm nod. "I'll wait for that."

Grantaire grinned at him and disappeared behind the counter. Enjolras finished his coffee and, feelingly oddly like he didn't want to leave the cafe, got up and walked awkwardly out onto the street. Seconds later, his phone buzzed, and he pulled it out of his pocket.

_9 at teh uni bar. ill b the 1 holdin the french flg??_

The text was from an unknown number, but Enjolras found himself beaming down at his phone. He selected the number and added a new contact, typed in Iapis, shook his head and laughed, backspaced, typed in Grantaire, and saved the contact.

_I have a better idea. I'll dress in red._

_adn ill wear black. its a deal._

Enjolras laughed out loud, only stopping to check that no one was watching him, before pocketing his phone and continuing down the street.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow guys, the fic is finished! It ended exactly the way I'd planned in the beginning; I almost can't believe it. I know I've said it before, but I really do want to thank everyone who read the fic, or left a comment, or gave kudos. Every little bit made me smile, and got more chapters written! c: I really do hope you've enjoyed reading it.

"Enjolras, have you seen this?"

Enjolras blinked in surprise at the Bossuet who had just tripped and collided with his chest but who had, thankfully, missed the coffee in his hand.

Bossuet took a step back, righted himself, and smiled sheepishly. "Sorry, Enjy."

"It's fine, Bossuet." Enjolras dismissed the incident with a wry smile. "Have I seen what?"

"Ah!" Bossuet nodded, remembering his purpose, and shoved a piece of paper in front of Enjolras' face.

Enjolras took the offending object and began to read it, his expression growing more grim with every line he read. "This - " he started to say, but he simply made a noise of displeasure and kept reading. A moment later; "This is!" He made a frustrated noise. "This is atrocious!"

"We only heard about them this morning," Bossuet told him. "Can they really raise the student fees that high?"

Enjolras seemed to be a little lost as his gaze frantically searched the piece of paper in his hand, but the moment that Bossuet spoke, his head snapped up and his expression grew determined. "No, they can't. With the horrendous facilities offered to students here? We won't let them. Come on." He stuffed the paper in the pocket of his coat and started to walk very briskly to the opposite side of the campus.

Bossuet struggled to keep up with him, concern written on his features. "What are we going to do?"

Enjolras reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone, typing in a number and bringing it up to his ear. "I'll call Combeferre. He can gather most of the people I need. Will you call Joly? Get any of the students you can think of. Tell them that we're meeting in the Student's Association building."

Bossuet started at Enjolras with wide eyes for a moment before nodding, and he headed off in the other direction.

Enjolras watched him go, and then was brought back to attention by the sound of Combeferre's voice.

"Comb? Yes. Listen, we're going to need pickets. Yes. Do you think the French flag would be over doing it?"

\---

It was getting close to 9 o'clock when Enjolras remembered his plans with Grantaire. He looked up at the students who were hard at work, making signs, calling their friends, rallying other people to their cause... There was no question in his mind; he could not leave. He took out his phone and fired off a text.

_Can't do drinks tonight. Raincheck?_

He pocketed the phone and went back to writing his letter to campus security. His phone went off moments later, and he had to laugh at Grantaire's atrocious spelling.

_thrd time uv cancelled_

_This is important. I promise._

_wats goin on?_

_Student rally. Protesting the rise in student fees + lack of student voices + decent facilities_

_o. yea. sound v imprtnt._

_It is. We're all holed up in the student association lounge. I think everyone would rather be somewhere else._

_u 2?_

_There's no where I'd rather be than defending mine, and other's rights. But I am lamenting the loss of good company._

There was no response from Grantaire after that, and though it was a nagging thought in the back of Enjolras' mind, he carried on with the preparations for the student rally.

"Courfeyrac," Enjolras turned to his friend. "Do we have the pickets we need?"

Courfeyrac looked up at him from a table where he and a few others were painting protests onto picket signs. "We've certainly got a lot."

Enjolras nodded "We're running out of time. Feuilly, Combeferre?"

"100 students at least, Enjy," Combeferre informed him. "They're with us."

"I've finished 10 banners," Feuilly chimed in. "Good as new!"

"Good work," Enjolras told them, unable to keep himself from beaming with pride. "Where has Marius got to?"

He then turned to look for Marius, who was sitting at one of the other tables with a pretty girl. Enjolras pinched the bridge of his nose and went to discuss the movements of the protest with a very distracted Marius.

\---

By 9 o'clock, the previously high spirits of the students were starting to fall. Joly had fallen asleep with his feet in Bossuet's lap, and his head on Musichetta's shoulder, Feuilly had started making spelling mistakes on his banners, and Bahorel had managed to stick his hand in a cup of red paint. Enjolras was struggling to keep them all together and has fiercely determined as he was, when there was a knock on the door of the student's lounge.

"That might be campus security," Combeferre suggested, and he and Enjolras looked at one another in worry.

Courfeyrac was the one who stood up and moved to open the door, a grin spreading across his face at the sight of who it was.

"Look who's come to visit us," he said, opening the door wide enough to reveal Grantaire, who was carrying a cardboard container in one hand with a few coffees in it, a a few plastic bags in his other hand.

"Grantaire!" Combeferre stood up to greet him. "And is that - did you bring coffee? Is that food?"

A few heads began to rise at the mention of coffee and food.

Grantaire shrugged, as much as he could with the things in his hands. "I heard you guys were planning a bit of a revolution. Leaders are very good at organising rallies, but I figured you guys would probably be wanting some stuff to keep you going."

He set up the carton of coffees on one of the tables, and pulled bags of food (pastries and baked goods) out and arranged them on the table as well.

"I've got some more drinks in my car," he told them, "Hot chocolates, more coffee. Would people be wanting - "

"Yes please!" Bahorel told him, and Grantaire laughed.

"Alright, I'll go grab them."

"I'll help you," Enjolras said, and it was the first thing that he had said since Grantaire had appeared at the door.

Grantaire motioned to the door, and the two of them walked out of the room, and towards the nearest car park.

"I hope I didn't over step or anything," Grantaire started to talk as they walked. "I know I'm not a student so I don't really have any reason to be here, well except for you. And Combeferre and Courfeyrac. Actually, Courfeyrac and I are becoming fast friends. Did you know the cafe's business has really boomed since they started coming for coffee? It's like you single-handedly boosted business there. Anyway, I just thought it might be a nice thing to do, but you haven't really said anything since I showed up so I thought that maybe you were mad - "

But he wasn't allowed to say any more, as Enjolras had stopped walking, fisted his hands in Grantaire's shirt and pulled him forward gracefully, planting his lips on the other's boy's. Grantaire's eyes went comically wide, and he flailed messily for a few moments before reaching up to take Enjolras' face in his hands, returning the kiss.

When Enjolras pulled away, they were both breathless. Grantaire, true to character though he looked like he'd just been stunned, was not to be silenced even then.

"Apollo, we haven't even been on a date yet," he teased.

"Thank you," Enjolras said, smiling fondly. "You came here. You brought drinks and food to my student protest. Even after I'd cancelled on you again."

Grantaire smiled almost shyly, but he held Enjolras' gaze. "That was sort of rude of you. Guess you owe me now, huh?"

Enjolras raised an eyebrow, and Grantaire laughed.

"Look, it's not my thing," he said. "Protests and rallies. And I'm not a student here. But it's important to you, right?"

"It is."

"Right. So let's go and get these drinks," he said, and smiled at Enjolras before he started walking again.

Enjolras stood there for a moment, a powerful and unknown feeling trying to jump its way up his throat, as he watched Grantaire. Mixed with the determined feeling that had been sitting in his stomach since he had begun planning the student protest, all he could do clench his fists tight and let out a fierce breath of air in triumph. The silence was then broken by Grantaire's voice.

"Well come on then, Apollo. Student revolutionaries to feed."


End file.
